1st Day: Wonderful Life

It did not ring true until I told it to someone else today.  There he was in my office, reeking of failure, sadness, a self-loathing that can only result from years of misguided-ness and mistake. "Look dude," he said with an unconfident determination, "all I want to do now is sit at home and raise my son." Without missing a beat I said, "Well you know he doesn't know anything but what you teach, and he certainly will be looking up to you to for lessons. Not teaching is a form of teaching in way" he nodded his head as if he understood.

"I know." he said after awhile in a lowered voice, realizing the mis-education he has already provided his three year old student. "Possession and dealing, man, I'm looking at 18 years. Dude, they tryna give me 18 years!" he said answering a question I was probably asking with my eyes.

"You know," I said with a teacher-like-preacher-like-fatherly-like tone, "mistakes happen, and most of them have consequences. We are probably no different. We have even made similar mistakes. But, it is not the mistake that is important, because we all make them. It is what you do after the mistake that matters most."

Lately, it has felt like I have been living in a haze, not knowing what to do or how to react.  But there it was like a loud bell ringing in my ear, or an annoying alarm clock blaring off minutes after I had pressed the snooze button to return to my slumber. It was like the light of a brand new morning was coming and there was nothing I could do about. In other words, I was telling him the exact words that I needed to hear for myself and my own personal strife I was experiencing at that time.

It was medicine I was administering, yet not prescribing for my own afflictions and ailments. Those are the hardest pills to swallow. It was the answers to tests that I already knew were on the syllabus. Intelligence withheld is folly at best. And I was tired of being stupid, tired of the same old situations emerging in my life that I have helped defeat in another's. I was weary of fighting battles on foreign soil, while domestically, my security had been breeched and I was on the brink of civil war. It seems most difficult to wage war on an enemy that is the inner me.

Our business was finished and he prepared to leave. Just as he was approaching the door, he stopped and turned around and walked back over to where I was standing. "Thanks, man. Thanks for the little pep talk. I…I know it will make a difference." We shook hands and he left. I felt sort of like a hypocrite. Like a failure. I felt as if I was defrauding myself of the much needed education that I was freely giving to others. I made a choice at that moment, a promise to myself that I would strive to be the very best that I could be. I figured I was not living up to my potential; after all I had literally been on top of the highest mountains. I had already traversed the earth adding adventure to my repertoire of memories. I was already a commissioned cadre of positive consciousness. As a matter of fact I am powerful. Beyond measure. Beyond what I was not forgiving myself for. Beyond what unhealthy spirit I had allowed into my heart. Beyond the insecurities that manifested itself in self-deprecation and depression.

It was not arrogance, but an adjustment of attitude that allowed these conclusions. It was the greatness displayed 19,340 feet above the earth. The wonderfulness shown crossing the finish line at the end of a marathon. The beauty of dreaming so large that I would certainly have to augment my audacity to hope and change my perceptions of limitation. I made a promise to no longer be afraid to utilize this power to continually change my life, and inadvertently change others. And I was beginning right then and there. No longer did I want to be the vagabond paradoxically giving financial advice – the beggar lending millions. But instead, I wanted to claim my riches as a cache for my own spiritual and emotional wealth. True altruism begins at home.  I want to live up to my potential in the sky like I did looking down from atop mountains.

I smiled. Returned to my desk. And even though it was still cloudy, somehow I knew the sun was just on the other side, not hiding, but waiting to make things better again. This is the first day of a wonderful life, briefly interrupted, but still….a wonderful life.

No better Day

"Nothing is worth more than this day." -Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

It is Monday…again. Today is not only the most important day of the week; it is the most important day of your life. How you begin this day, can determine how well, how fast, how stress-free, how wonderful your week will be. If Monday is weak than the rest of the work week will be the same. Attempt to do all that you can today to make sure it begins and ends in a positive way. This is also the most important day of your life because it is the only day you have. For all we know this could be our last day. How will you live this day, will it be a day to remember all the difficulties that other days have brought you? Will it be a day that you still hold on to outdated grudges and contempt? Will it be a day that you postpone telling those with whom you have contact how special they have been in your life? With all the things we have put off until later, tomorrow just seems too busy and too unpredictable as to its arrival, to not use this day as a chance to have a wonderful life.

Look back and reflect upon this year. Did you accomplish everything you set out to achieve? Did you find ways to eliminate the stress in your life? Was it a great year? Did you become closer to the ideal You that want to be? Were relationships ended for the betterment of you or to the detriment of you? How is this year going to be worse than the next and not the other way around?

This year has brought me so many reasons to smile, laugh, cry, dream, and climb the wonderful mountains that life has for me. I have married the Love of my life, a beautiful, strong, and passionate woman with whom I look forward to spending the rest of my life. We have celebrated the birth of our first child, Zyla Marie and have added this special, beautiful gift to our family. We especially now have a reason to want to make this world a better place, nicer, more tolerant, and safe. So strive with me to improve the world around us and live happily, because if this day is all we get, why waste it!

13 Stripes

My reaction to it surprised me. I didn't understand it at first.  There it was in the distance staring at me, like a friend's outstretched arms welcoming me home. My heart actually skipped a beat and I just couldn't stop smiling. 13 stripes, each one had to be about 20ft long, suspended in air like a cloud providing momentary comfort
from the noonday sun. Being here in Africa you cannot escape the harsh realities of global colonization and the constant effects it has had on the indigenous cultures of so many people. I thought back to my childhood history lessons and the term colony is something that brings celebration in America. We even get two days off in November to eat turkey and remember the destruction of the native peoples of our land.  But that was over 231 year ago. The colonization of Africa is much more prevelant and immediate. It is like I have gone back in time to
see how cultures were being destroyed and "civilization" merges into one way.

I phoned the US Emabassy in Bamako, Mali early in the morning just to check in and to re-register my trip (on the State Department's site you can register your travels just in case something happens they know you are in the area and will help you get to safety). I was altering my route a bit and the road from Dakar to Bamako was a little shady with armed bandits car jacking people along the way (thank God it did not effect our bus). I wanted to make sure they knew my movements in Africa. The man on the phone said that I could come down to the embassy at my leisure and speak to the consulate about anything I wanted and I could even file my taxes there and of course re-register my trip. I hung up the phone feeling good. Off to the Embassy I go.

In countries that the U.S. has diplomatic relations there is usually an Embassy in that country to tend to the U.S. affairs,  interests and citizens. The US Embassy in Bamako was a grand place (in true American fashion) and walking into the place gave me a strange feeling. I didn't think I would be this excited to be there. And technically, you are on US soil when you are there, so if your baby is born in that building it was born in the US and may be eligible to be a U.S. citizen, amamzing huh? Anyway, I conduct my business with the consulate and get all my documentation in order and leave. On the way out though, I pass by those 13 stripes again, a symbol of America's
past colonization of the land we now call home. In just a moment, I will once again leave my country and step back into a former colony ruled by France, with its aweful legacy evident in the country's impoverished condition.

In just over 233 years, America has risen to become a great place. The more I travel the more I am realizing that there is no other place on earth I'd rather be or be from (ignore for a moment every poem/commentary have ever heard me recite on the subject). Of course it is not perfect with its second-rate, unequal public urban education system, disproportionate incarceration rates and struggling social service system, it is still a great place. I am learning more and more what makes America tick, why so many people want to come here and better their lives and what about America I was missing so much being here.

I guess that is I why my heart skipped a beat when I saw it and a smile was on my face. Yes, those 13 stripes represent a terrible colonial tragedy that occured on American soil over the last 400 years and a past that cannot be forgotton, forever represented as our national identity. It is a banner that now bonds us together. But, as much as it shows us where we have been the 50 stars on it also show us where we are, and ultimately where we can go. I even thought about putting my hand up to my forehead and for the first time in my life solute it, proud to be a representative, a citizen. But I didn't (because we still have a very long way to go). But I did feel a little better about these French colonies I was in, and was more hopeful that one day these lands will emerge from their cultural destruction into the wonderful, diverse, yet somehow united people like where I was from that I have too long under-appreciated.....

Flower Power

"And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom." - Anais Nin


We can look at a colorful flower and smell its sweet scent and marvel at its magnificent display with no thought to what it took to get it where it is today. Most flowers begin their life a tiny seed. The seed alone does not have the ability to turn itself into a flower. The seed needs to find the right soil, endure rainy storms and needs ample light to stimulate its growth. When take an honest assessment of our own lives, we see how like the beautiful flower we are. We too need the proper soil and environment in which to plant ourselves. Likewise we must endure seasons of rainy tears that enrich us with its pain because it was needed to make us stronger. And finally our growth would not be complete without the light to shine, us being praised for our efforts, works and energy that we have given. Today find ways to open up to others, to have compassion toward your friends/family/colleagues/customers' stage of their personal germination process. Flowers, like us come in all shapes, sizes, flavors, colors, but together can make up a wonderful garden. And although we need the rain, let us strive to provide more sunshine so that we can continue to blossom.

Dates With Two Swedes....Watching the Sunrise

I left Marrakech on a bus at 03:30 bound for Agidir in southern Morocco. This bus was no Greyhound (also sworn off those many years ago), but it was only a 4 hour ride and I fully prepared myself for the 20+ more hours on a bus once I reached Agidir. Agidir seemed to be a ghost town in the morning, nothing was open and when I inquired about the next bud to Dakhla, the lady told me 7pm and it will get me there 5pm the next day. weighing my options, I figured to take one of the "Grand Taxis" to Layonne and feel my way through to Dakhla from there. If you've ever wondered where do all the Mercedes Benz cars circa 1979-1990 have gone look no further than Morocco. The entire taxi system are old Benz', regular taxis in the cities and in the remote places like Agidir they are called Grand Taxis. The Grand Taxi was a bit cheaper than the bus and I would at least arrive 12 hours or so before the bus. the guy at the station "the Boss" explained to me that there are 7 places in the Grand Taxis, therefore 4 in the back and 2 in the front plus the driver. I quickly said no thanks cause I am just too tall to sit in the front seat with two other grown dudes, it too hot and plus where was dude going to sit, this was a stick shift. I preceded to get out and said I will just wait for the bus. He assured me that there would be no problem and to get back in pay the money and we could be on our way. I should have know something was up cause he was the only one the spoke English.


Everything was great, the roads were surprisingly smooth and the weather got increasingly warmer. 5 hours into our trip at a town called Tan Tan (should be renamed UGheta Tan Tan) the temperature must have been over 120 degrees, but things got much hotter. I driver opened my door and asked me to move over because he was picking up another person and with the 7 places in the car we had room. I staunchly refuse and hold my seat. He keeps insisting (mind you this isn't in English, but I understood what he wanted). He keeps putting up 6 fingers and yelling something at me and I keep repeating what I was told back at Agidir that the Boss assured me that I could retain the front with no problem. Driver gets upset tries to take off my seat belt and when I snap it back in place he reaches over turns off the car, takes the keys and walks away in frustration.

Several people come over to try to resolve the situation and I hold my place, keep my ground and calmly explain my position (no one spoke English and I don't understand French or Arabic). The situation is at a standstill and my Rosa Parks stubbornness is holding everyone up. Finally a guy comes from nowhere asking my if I spoke any Spanish, I say a little (man do I know more Spanish than I ever thought I did!!). We have a conversation about the situation and he explained the drivers position and I explain mine and what I was told by the Boss. he understood, say that he would've have told me anything at the beginning but on the road it's a different story. Anyway we come to an agreement that I would pay a few dollars more to keep the front seat so that we could continue to Layonne and everything would be fine. We leave and the Driver and I became friends, he helped negotiate a taxi from Layonne to Dakhla for me and I keep the front seat all to myself.

22 hours, 104 police Checkpoints from Agidir, I arrive in Dakhla, a quaint town in the country of Western Sahara. I planned to stay there for one night and continue on to Nouahibou in Mauritania, but the ride was so exhausting that I ended up staying a few nights. While there I ran into two Swedes, Veronica and David who were wandering the earth like myself. They bought me tea and we sat and laughed and chatted the night away and agreed to leave together for the border. A man approached us with a deal to leave at 4:30 in the morning to beat the traffic and most importantly the sun (all other transport left after 9:00). And the Mauritanian border was notorious for the traffic and slowness. We weighed our options and agreed to take the car to Nouahibou where they would continue east and I south to Nouakchott and then on to Dakar, Senegal.

Leaving in the night proved to be a great move. There was no traffic no heat (we travel through the Sahara Desert) and things were well. They shared their bag of date with me and the best thing about leaving at night was we got to see the beautiful sunrise over the desert...

Time, Flies: the Road to Bamako...

We finally pull off...at 4:30 PM! We were "scheduled" to leave at noon. Apparently the transportation system here in Africa is as followed: "we don't move until we have a full bus". And that is exactly what was happening now. They held up the bus until one by one people trickled onto the bus and the seats were filled. While waiting on board the hot bus so long, I was being attacked by scores of flies that just thought I was dinner or something, I'd shoo them away and they would double and triple team me and come back for more. So I couldn't even relax while waiting to leave. Finally, we take off.


We are headed to the country of Mali with our final destination being its capital city of Bamako. I was particularly upbeat because I was getting to continue on with my journey after almost considering quitting because I fell ill. We head east...right back into the Sahara Desert. Oh, well, at least we left so late that by the time we are in to heart of it, it will be dark. The entire journey takes two days to reach Bamako. By early morning we reach the Mali border. Trouble. They saw my American Passport and hold it, trying to extort money out of me. I don't have it. They threaten to send me back to Senegal if I don't pay and I don't know what to do.

Enter Tony, Emmanuel and his girlfriend (don't remember her name). I did not know what to think of this trio at first because Tony kept approaching me throughout the night with a scenario that sounded word for word a scam I had read about numerous times in preparation for this trip. They didn't have enough money to reach Accra, until they got to their bank to withdraw funds...the banks in Senegal did not work to retrieve money, etc. He kept asking and pressuring me with this story for me to help them out with some money. I didn't know, but said a prayer asking what to do. At the border Emmanuel came over wanting to help, so did 4 other people. I felt a little overwhelmed and chose someone out to the crowd to speak with. The guy said give him 10,000CFA ($20) and he would negotiate on my behalf. OK, but I was all out of cash (of course until I could use my bank card at a machine to retrieve cash because the bank machines in Senegal did not work).

Emmanuel comes back over and offers to help, he will pay the man and he negotiated with the border patrol on my behalf and we were on our way. I felt conflicted. Here I am in need of help and the one person I turned away because I didn't know if I could trust him, turned out to be the angel I prayed for. In addition, I had the same problem his brother said he had needing to go to the bank to retrieve more money. I continued to pray and told myself I will wait until we reached Bamako before I gave any conclusive answers. Tony said I was a fool to be out so far with no money and internally I agreed, he said that if they weren't there what would I have done. I informed him that he was there because I had faith that God would see me through any and all situations.

Between Dakar and Bamako, there isn't much to look at. There are only so many donkeys, goats and emaciated cows one can marvel at, and the heat in the desert is hot. Frankly, I am board. I start making up songs, "hey little goat, one day you'll be a coat or somebody's din -ner, If that little sheep, make the slightest peep, the farmer man will skin her." Random stupid little thoughts start to fill the time: "Wow, how ironic, cows are vegetarian," Two donkeys mating, after, what does the male run to tell his boys he got some of? And of the ever present flies swirling around my head, buzzing by my ear: I wonder if American flies and African flies speak the same language? Why do they do that thing with their legs, what's up with that? What is the opposite of opposite? What is the definition of definition? Too much time on my hands. Too many flies.

We finally reach Bamako and everything I own and every piece of clothing has this bright red dust on it. Everywhere in Mali is this red dirt and clay-like substance. And it is hot, Africa hot! (Africa Hot: taking a shower, getting clean and dry only to step outside and 9 seconds later you are completely covered in sweat). I immediately go to the bank machine and withdraw enough money to last me until my next stop. Tony is hovering around me and even tries to get into the ATM booth with me. I assumed he wanted to see my code or how much I was getting out. I politely asked him to step out and he did, pacing back and forth trying to look in. This of course made me suspicious of him even more.

The first chance I had alone I stashed away most of my cash and only had enough in my pocket for the two days I'd be in Mali. Tony came at me hard this time asking for money and giving his pitch which kept changing slightly with each time. Anyway I told him I would see what I could do. He then said that they had absolutely no money to continue on. I repeated to him what he told me about being out in Africa with no money and he said it was hot and that he didn't know what he was saying when he told me such things. Hmmm. Still I prayed and just asked that their true intentions be revealed to me. What didn't make sense to me was that they were traveling together with no money and apparently according to Tony on their way to Venezuela once they got to Accra, Ghana.

This sounded bogus because it cost them 25,000 CFA ($50) each to get to Bamako. And it would cost another 31,000 CFA ($62) each to reach Ghana. That is a total of 56,000 CFA each person. So if they had all this money in the bank in Ghana, why wouldn't they just send one person all the way for 56,000 CFA total and not 3 people half way for 75,000 CFA. Of course Tony had no answer for this inquiry. Ultimately though, I left them in Bamako and continued on to Lome, Togo. I repaid Emmanuel's 10,000CFA and gave him an extra 10,000 CFA, to say thanks for helping me at the border. I decided to give as much as they gave to me, because rather they were lying or not I am sure they could use it and I felt better about doing something.

This situation has given me a little more insight into how God works. Often He will use people, circumstances, and experiences to teach you that He can use all things for good. God will take some unsavory characters and make use of them to help you on your way. Too often we tend to look at people at face value, making a judgment about weather they need to be in your life, but God will reveal that He is in fact in control and each and everyone you encounter is in your life for a reason and a season. I am fortunate to have met these people and wish them nothing but peace and well-being.

I get on the first bus leaving for Lome -- it's 07:58. Getting to Lome will take us just over two days on the bus. Slowly, one by one people trickle in on the bus. We are “scheduled” to depart Bamako at 08:45. Three hours come and go. Five hours. Seven hours. So I sit here on a hot bus in Bamako and wait to go to Togo, wasting time, fighting flies......

Let Monday=Friday

"Let me not pray to be sheltered from dangers but to be fearless in facing them. Let me not beg for the stilling of my pain, but for the heart to conquer it. Let me not look for allies in life's battlefield but to my own strength. Let me not cave in." - Rabindraanath Tagore


Your weak end is approaching.  Because it is time that you end the perceived weaknesses that you hold on to, live through, that cause you to stop moving forward to find your strength.  Yes, it is Friday, a day we usually long for, celebrate and smile at its much anticipated arrival.  But it simply being Friday should not be the sole motivation to pep up our step and greet each other warmly.  If in a couple of days we are back from the weekend for our "weak" to begin again, then we perhaps should re-evaluate our intentions on being here, our attitude, our goals.  Can we find ways to be stronger each day?  Can we discover the lovely possibilities that are locked inside our pain?  Can we be grateful for the wonderful gifts of life and purpose?  Let us end our weak this week and make the happy Friday that we feel last throughout the moments of our weak(ness), and I promise that happiness will last for weeks, and we will be stronger, better.  Happy Friday, and I pray that come Monday, Friday will emerge once again in our lives.

Christmas 22

I wrote my very first book when I was 8 years old in the third grade.  I was in Mrs. Tucker's class at IPS School 70 and the assignment was to write a few poems and short stories and then craft, bind and illustrate a book.  I can vividly remember most of my classmates not wanting to do this, even dreading this assignment, but not me, I was excited...very excited!  I got an "A+" on my project and the book was showcased as one of the best in the class.  If it weren't for the fact that we had to write our stories in class, Mrs. Tucker would not have believed that I was in fact the author of them.  She even had to defend my work to the other teachers who thought I got help from my parents or from my teacher.  I wrote a poem and two short stories, one of which was called, "At Night, a Knight!"  It was about how creatures of the night come from under the bed and in the closet to attack the unsuspecting towns people and how the little boy with his "pillow as his sword, covers as his shield, and bed as his horse," turns into a brave knight that defeats the night crawlers.  I often marvel at the gift I have been given: to translate life into words and mental pictures that can curl up the corners of one's lips, accelerate the heart, moisten the cheeks with tears that flow like rivers forging a path to an ocean of joy.  Even though I can look back at that book and chronicle it as my very first, I do not remember it primarily because of the content, rather I remember the obscure words I prophetically penned on the Dedication page.

The Dedication Page read: "I dedicate this book to my mommy and daddy, my big sister and my little brother in my mommy's stomach."  My mother laughed when she read this, because at age 34, she had no intention whatsoever to have any more children.  And she was definitely nowhere near pregnant at the time.  She asked, "Do you think your mommy is that fat that you believe she is pregnant?"  "No, mommy!"  I replied, "I just know that you will be and I will have a little brother."  She smiled and carried on and told me that if she ever has another boy, I could be the one to name him.

By the end of my Fifth Grade year, my mother told my sister and me that she was pregnant and that my father (already a grandfather at this time) would be a father at the tender age of 50 for the seventh time.  "Is it a brother?" I asked excited that my prediction was coming true.  "We don't know yet," she said.  "It's a brother!"  I said, confident that I needed to think of a name, eager to have my mother fulfill her promise to me.

A few months later, on Sunday, December 20, 1987, my little brother was born.  I had the honor of giving him the name Derrin Shane and received a special Christmas gift that year.  Each year I have had an even better honor: to watch this gift re-gift himself over and over to those he encounters as he uses his special gifts, talents, warm smile, beautiful inner strength, and curious mind to uplift the world.  Over the years I have seen him grow.  I have taught him how to play basketball, never allowing him to win to gain his confidence, rather beating him just enough so that he will want to come back for more the next time.  Now, to give me confidence, he has to allow me to win, because my skills (if they were ever there) have declined severely with age and increased waist size.  I have been able to share many wonderful experiences with him that have taught him character, showed him love, corrected his behavior, and have made him laugh.  Now, watching how wonderful a father he has become, I turn to him for advice on how to be a better one. Now, he is the one chastising me for my erratic behavior, or less than excellent character, telling me that I am better than what I display. His words and actions toward me are all too familiar, for they are often regurgitations of words, thoughts, ideas, actions that I once told to him to help him through the challenges life tends to bring forth. And my words to him were more than likely ideas, thoughts, etc. told to me from our father.


This year will mark the twenty second time I have had the pleasure of celebrating Christmas with my little brother, a gift I get to open each time he calls, I get to play with each time we work out together or play basketball, I get to share with all my family and friends, I get to continuously unwrap at the end of each hug. Now I get to dedicate more than just a book to him, I have an opportunity to dedicate my time, energy, and well-being, for as I constantly seek ways to improve myself; it unconsciously gives him permission to do the same. He is a wonderful book that I get to witness being written, with most of the chapters God personally organizes. I marvel at his level of growth and determination to accomplish his goals and the way he defeats the things that approach in the darkness of night that come to destroy his peace of mind. His “pillow is his sword, covers are his shield, bed is his horse….” Know this little bro, as long as I am alive, you will never have to fight alone.

Inspire

"Good actions give strength to ourselves and inspire good actions in others." -Plato

As you begin this day, think about all the wonderful, positive things you can do that can inspire someone to live a more productive, optimistic and excuse-free life. When something is not going quite as you expect, or a dark, rainy cloud of negativity seems to follow you throughout the day, take a moment to assess whether you are being a part of the solution to remove the clouds and offer sunshine to all those you encounter. Just as we have taken special precautions by washing hands, huge jars of hand sanitizer, surgical masks, etc. to protect us from germs that bring infectious diseases, we should be just as proactive in shielding our spirits from negative people, places, and things. Today, make an effort to remove your mask and infect us with your contagious smile. I promise, you will be inspired, will inspire other, and make this a wonderful, beautiful day.

Sunshine and Rain

"He who has a why can endure almost any how." -Friedrich Nietzsche




You are an important person. You are a unique creation that is needed here to bring joy, love, laughter, perspective, life, relief to us through your gifts. Everything that has happened and will happen is the perfection you need to bring you to the point that will make you a better you. Today, plant positive seeds of purpose within the soil of your heart and soul. Keep in mind that seeds will only grow to flower with a delicate balance between the sun and the rain. Likewise you will only grow through joy and pain; through times of sorrow and periods of happiness. Never forget that you have a purpose, as well as others have a purpose too. Practice this day displaying compassion to others, regardless if their today is sunny/warm, or a windy/rain.

Today: YOU Asked For It!

"We don't stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing." - George Bernard Shaw


Think about where you are in life: your career, your family, your friends, your hobbies, etc. Take an inventory of all the "things" you do that occupy your time. Think of all the stuff that life/society/family/responsibilities/work has thrown your way that you feel drains the life out of you because you are obligated to them rather than want to do them. Think of all the energy you have wasted complaining about the very things that you once would have given ANYTHING to have. Remember when work brought you joy, if only to anticipate the reward at the end of the pay period, you eagerly fulfilled your obligations with a smile. Time seemed much quicker then than it does today. Doesn't time seemed to go too slow these days, Friday used to come sooner. Remember when you were childless or spouseless and you wanted, more than anything, to have a family. Remember the feeling you had looking into your child's eyes for the first time, or holding your spouses hand vowing to not let hard times get the best of you. Remember when the hard times got too hard, but you lifted your head to the sky, bended your knees and begged for an intervention. And now the child is grown, and your marriage has also. The car may make noise today, but remember when you prayed for "any ol' transportation" just so that you can get to work and take the family out every now and then. Today you have once again received a blessing in that you are able to be here, you should again be excited as you use to be. Laugh, smile, tell a joke, play about while here because being here is the answer to a prayer that you have spoken several times. Be grateful for all that you have and when things are not going as you completely expect, take a moment to check your attitude, your energy, your intentions. Make the best of this day and time will once again move, and maybe unfortunately, a little faster.

Beautiful Mistakes

"Life is the art of drawing without an eraser." John W. Gardner




Wouldn’t it be great if we had a do-over in life; that we could just copy and paste better saved versions of ourselves into the present. It would be wonderful to simply hit the delete key in our memories to get rid of unwanted baggage that we have packed for this short journey called life. Since we are all made for a purpose, it is safe to assume that everything that happens in our life it a necessary component to move us closer to that purpose. Having a firm acknowledgment of this concept will help us to become a little less occupied with what we deem as mistakes. Take a moment to reflect upon a time when you thought you made the biggest mistake, instead in retrospect you learned that without the blunder it would not have lead you to where you are today. Most of us do not discover the true purposes for our lives until we have made these mistakes and discover the beauty that was trapped inside our pain. Keep in mind also that our stories are not as unique as we may think. When we speak to someone, or interact with a stranger, remember to show compassion and respect, because they too have a purpose. The painful poverty, heartache from the loss of a loved one, debilitating illness, etc. may be the catalyst they need to move them closer to the reason they are here on this earth. So do not consume yourself with thoughts of repeating or deleting things of the past.  Just have a higher level of acceptance and your mistakes will become opportunities for growth.

Positive: Solution

"You won't find a solution by saying that there is no problem." -William Rotsler


In going through this day attempt to discover ways in which you can look at reality for all of its possibilities, rather than its challenges. However, when confronted with a difficult situation/person/task think positively about it and the outcome will be one which gives you strength not take away the awesome power you possess. Try today to not put off addressing these difficult things until a later date, find ways that will turn the difficult trial into a determined trail that leads you to your path of purpose. Adversity builds character, but only if you allow yourself to learn from your shortcomings, perceived failures, and complacent attitudes. Remember how you begin this week determines how weak your challenges will be. Let us weaken our adversities, build character, think positively, and make this day the best one of our lives. I look forward to seeing your smiles.

Perfect Target

"Being happy doesn't mean that everything is perfect. It means that you have decided to look beyond the imperfections."


I recently heard the story of a young man that once visited his great uncle on his farm. When he arrived he saw several targets painted on the sides of his uncle's barn, each and every one of them had several perfect bull's-eye holes in them. This impressed the young man and desired to inquire as to how the old man could be such a great shot. He asked of his uncle, "Uncle Bob, how in the world did you learn to be such a great shooter. I mean, every single time you have shot you hit the bull's-eye target perfectly! Wow can you teach me how to do this?"

The old man smiled at the excitement of his only nephew and replied, "Son, I have tried most of my life to be perfect at everything I do. I used to get terribly upset at the times I would miss the targets and fall short of the goals I set for myself. I used to view myself a failure. I did not realize that the success can often come from the decision to take risks, experience the journey on the road to your dreams. It is more impressive to know that I shot those bullets from 450 yards, and not up close. The fact that the bullets took so long to get there and still hit its spot is a testimony And just like life, it is how far you have come to get you where you are can make the difference in how you view life. And to remain happy with where I am, I have learned to accept where I am and who I am, because that is the perfection I need to be, flaws and all."

Perplexed, the young man asked, "But how did all that teach you how to be such a great shot?"
"Oh, that," replied the old man, "I just simply shot first and then painted the target afterward.

The Man of Still

It wasn't good night. Not at all!. I tossed and turned and rolled around violently throughout the night. Then it happened: TD. Most people that travel usually get anywhere from mild to severe TD no big deal, you get and that's it. TD is Traveler's Diarrhea. After more than a few days of not being so regular, I didn't mind it, a little Pepto and I'm all cleaned out. But after the restlessness and the 5th or 6th time going, I consulted my binder with health information to make sure that all things for the most part were well. I open the page to find the words, "if you have a fever seek medical attention immediately!" I check my temperature and to my astonishment the thermometer read 106. So yes I had a fever, I should have thrown down the book and ran to the nearest medical institution. But remember, I'm in Africa, I ain't going out there in the middle of the night and besides all I needed were a few aspirin and I'd be better in the morning. More TD. 7 or 8 more times. Brain is starting to work, there might be something wrong, I thought to myself. I check my binder again, this time with the light on. Body aches. Check. Severe TD. Check. Fever more than 105. Check. Check. Check. "If you are experiencing one or more of these symptoms, FOOL GO TO THE DOCTOR!!!"


Hmmm, still in Africa though and it's still the middle of the night. I said a prayer and promised myself I'd go to the hospital at first sign of daylight.

Daylight. Symptoms went from bad to worse, everything intensified times a thousand. I wake up the auberge manager and try to explain that I need a doctor. Up until this point I am all too patient when attempting to speak and understand the language but right now, I just keep screaming "hospital, hospital....I need a doctor" He looks at me with a blank stare and says, "yes". OK yes tell me where the hospital is. Again the blank stare and he says, "yes. OK you go now? Leave key". He turns away and goes back to his room. Oh never mind. I was getting progressively worse as the minutes passed. I dragged myself to

the street and flagged down a taxi. "Hospital, Hospital....I need a doctor!" The taxi driver says, "yes" blank stare included. I get in and he asks, "where are you going?" Oh never mind. I don't have time to be playing around, I exit the vehicle and flag another. He had the presence of mind to stop someone who spoke enough English to direct us to the hospital.

I get to the hospital. Nothing is remotely in English. No signs pointing to ER or Triage. Nothing. No one speaks English. This hospital is a large campus and no one apparently has emergencies in Senegal. And I am not getting any better. I can feel my fever getting

higher, pain worsening, TD turned into vomit. OK this is it, this is how I die. In utter pain and suffering in Senegal. I stop and sit on a bench with my head in my hands. I dial the number to God, "Dear Lord, please see me through this, please send me a angel to help me get help. Amen." "Excuse me," I stop the next person I see, "can you direct me to the Emergency Room?" "Follow me" she said, oh thank you Lord.

I get to the ER and am confronted with another obstacle. No one speaks English. I go up to the intake lady and say I need a doctor. She stares at me blankly as if to say, "look around don't you see everyone here needs a doctor?" The nerve of these people. Here I am an American citizen and they aren't giving me special treatment? I sit down (I am way out of it at this point) I phone the US Embassy in Dakar. “I'll show them, treating me like this” I say to myself. Ring. “I'll get someone down here right away and I'll receive the best care you got.” Ring. “I can't wait, ooohh you gonna get it, watch.” Ring. “Secretary State Condi is a sistah too, she gonna hook a brotha up.” Ring. “Ya'll don't know? I'm from the land of liberty, one time we went to war over tea when Paul Revere shot Crispus Attucks, a Black man....so you know they getting me outta here. Ring...."We're sorry, the U.S. Embassy is now closed, please call back during normal business hours..." Hmmm. I get real humble. Real fast.

I approach the lady calmly and we struggle through what I need. She has me fill out papers and pay a small intake fee to see the doctor and I sit and wait to see the doctor. OK, I am out here dying which everyone can see so I will see the doctor soon, right?. Wrong. Two hours pass and each half hour I go back to where the doctors are and demand to have someone see me. At least take my temperature or something. Jersey City Medical Center (who rivals Senegal in service) would at least had taken my temperature by now. Nothing. I am moaning and groaning in pain and each time the nurses would snicker. Three hours. Four. Five. What's wrong with you people cant you see I am about to die!!?!!

About six hours into my walking into the ER the nurses came to get me and placed me in a room and take my temperature, now at 104.2, and placed an IV in my arm to drip fluids. Finally the doctor. "Do you speak English?" I ask him. "Yes" Oh thank God! He and an assistant examine me and place me through a series of x-rays and blood tests. After about 30 minutes I ask him, "Doctor, am I going to die?" He responds, "yes" (blank stare and all). I feel the life escape my body. Hope drained. So this is it, this is where I will perish. After a minute though, I begin to smile. Hey, it's been one heck of a ride. Many people never leave within a quarter mile from where they are born and here I am, I get a chance to die in Senegal. I just hope my personal effects get to my family (someone needs to profit off of this experience). An hour later the doctor comes into the room and pulls the IV from my arm, gives me a paper and attempts to explain to me what is on it. Wait a minute, I thought you spoke English. "No English" Apparently, "yes" (accompanied with blank stare) is the Senegalese word for "I don't know what the heck you talkin' 'bout, but I don't want to be rude. Hmmm not going to die here after all. Whew!!

It turns out the smallest little thing caused all this medical drama: a tiny female mosquito that could have bit me anywhere between Morocco and Senegal. Wherever she bit me, she left microscopic eggs that hatched inside of my liver attacking my red blood cells. This in other words is called malaria. Malaria is a serious, deadly disease that kills many people worldwide. When I finally informed my family, they predictably panicked. They begged and pleaded with me to end the trip and come home and I made a deal with my father that if I was not better in 4 days (the doctor gave me a 3 day treatment) I would.

By the 4th day I was nearly 90% and felt as if I would continue on with this journey. The treatment cured me and I am glad to have gone through it because I know how to better protect myself from malaria. About it being a deadly disease you might be thinking, well it is. Before you write off third world countries as a way to continue to justify why you don't travel, let me put it in perspective. We at home have our share of communicable diseases that kills many with the same rates as malaria, like the flu (granted all things being equal like time of diagnosis, access to treatment, age and general health of

individual). If you were to get the flu this season, you'd be out for a few days but know how to treat it, help prevent it and what to take to make you feel better. Malaria is Africa's flu. It is so common that when I told my friends I met here I had it, they thought I was being all too dramatic in my reaction.

As soon as I felt 100%, I boarded a bus headed to my next destination: Bamako, Mali. I am grateful that I was able to have this experience and was able to be still long enough to get my thoughts in order and health back on track and viewed this as a test of my

continued faith to call upon God in such hours of need. Through the red octagon I go, crossing yet another intersection on the road to my dreams. The journey continues....

The Man of Still (a poem for the movement of dreams)

I want to stand ten feet taller than my condition
--Perspective: we aren't even 10ft taller than ants--
I want to rise high above my burdens
Like a mighty mountain on the horizon
I want to cannonball off the cliff of complacency
Into the warm waters of hope
--Warning: cannonballing can cause serious injury
If the subsequent waters aren't deep--
My hope is deeper than destiny
Runs far beneath the surface of my see
And is the evidence of what I cannot
Faith will have you running through the forest blindfolded
Believing you can fly
Or thinking you can defeat an army with a switchblade
Because my belief is that my demons
Are not as powerful as my perception of them
That is why I am still
Motionless like a lion lying in wait
in anticipation of the antelope as his next meal
Still like the wind prior to a fierce storm
Like the roots of a dimba tree embedded in Malian soil
I am still
Here pushing forward toward my dreams
Hovering high above the clouds where the rain cannot touch me
My tears aren't even wet
Because I don't cry anymore
I am beaten, broken, burdened
And still I laugh in the face of adversity
My misfortunes are mistaken if they think I will deviate from my path
I am naive enough to believe my dreams will come true
It feels so good to know that the next day
Could possibly be better this one
Because I am still optimizing my options
And as long as I still have air in my lungs
I still have a reason to push on
I still have a reason to push on

Derrick S Slack
March/2007

Thoughts of the World

"The mind has exactly the same power as the hands; not merely to grasp the world, but to change it." Colin Wilson
As cliché as it may be, but yes, you can change the world. Let us think of each person as their own world that comprises this universe, that makes up this universal truth: the beautiful, random, kind acts that you do for someone can change the world as they see it. Today, have nothing but positive thoughts about the people with whom you work, the job you have been charged to complete, the people that that you must encounter and allow only good thoughts to consume your mind. Remember: your thoughts will most certainly become your words; your words become your actions; your actions create habits; habits become destiny. The power to shape your destiny and change the world begins with your thoughts.

The Journey Mets an Octagon

Nouakchott. Mack and I arrive just before midnight and quickly find a nice place called Auberge Sahara (my first encounter with an auberge; very similar to what we call hostel). The owner's wife checked us in. We had to get the big room with 7 other people in it, I run to the bed and fall fast asleep under the mosquito net. Mack takes a shower and declines one of the beds opting to sleep in the comfort of his cargo compartment of his truck/van. I sleep very soundly and wake up around 10:00 to shower and gather myself for my next move. Mack was already up and ready to push on. We exchange emails and a firm handshakes and he drives away. OK now I just need to find a way to get from here to the Senegal border. Easy right? No!


Mauritania is a country without one single ATM, not a one, nada, nowhere in sight. If you ain't gots no cash, then you flat on yo' ....well you know up a creek and all that. All the money that I had, I paid for the auberge and went to food and gas. How the heck am I stuck out here in the middle of the desert (literally) with no means to get anywhere? My Moroccan SIM card doesn't work out here, Mauritania has no place I can buy a new one, besides I don't have money to get one if it did. What to do? Pray is what I did. "Lord please send me an angel of protection, I need the resources to get to the border, please help."

Enter Tiago, a Portuguese living in France with his girlfriend Ellacho. I approach them and ask them did they know how to get to the border from here. They said they were getting a car to take them to the border in an hour for free because they had sold the owner a car for cash and the promise to take them to the border and they would ask if I could hitch a ride. Sidi, the owner, was getting someone else to drive them and said he would charge me 20 Euro to go, plus he was also taking 3 other Frenchmen to the border so it may be a tight squeeze. I told Tiago I had no money, and that I didn't know that the entire country hadn't any ATM's. They agreed to spot me the fare and anything else I needed until we arrived in Senegal. Extremely grateful and cheerful all 7 of us squeeze into this station wagon 7 hours to the border. This time of course I am not complaining about the overcrowding situation and proceed to kill my NBA career dreams by cramming my knees into my chest for hours.


We finally make it to the border and the driver turned out to be a shady character making several side deals with the checkpoint personnel to extort cash out of us, even threatening at one point to turn around if we didn't pay (we called his bluff to his grief). But we do make it to the border and the driver dumps us off and drives away. Middle of the night, bugs crawling all over me, our destination miles from here. And he leaves us. The border people ask for a little compensation too and once we paid they were all smiles and happy. It turned a bit ugly when it was time to go. Of course we were at a disadvantage being that it was the middle of the night. They brought a few cars to pick us up and take us to St. Louis the nearest town for us to get a hotel and rest the night, but they wanted some outrageous per person fee to do so. I am completely silent while all of this is going on because I don't' understand a word, just the tone. The three Frenchmen relent and scurry off into the night, while the three of us are left sitting. Tiago hangs his head in shame saying that they wont speak to him anymore and that maybe he shouldn't have been so stubborn in his position. Now we have no way to get to St. Louis and we are stuck here in the middle of nowhere.


I say a prayer and then say to Tiago not to worry because positive always wins over anything negative. Let us remain positive and we will get out of here real soon. Man, the power of prayer and positive thinking! Like clockwork a Frenchman on his way to Dakar through St. Louis pulls into the border agrees to take us door-to-door and make sure we were OK. We make the 32 KM quickly and check into an auberge for the night.


I spend a couple of days in St. Louis before saying farewell to my new friends and head south 5 hours to Dakar. While in Dakar, I stretch out a couple days before heading to the village of Bambey to volunteer at a school. I use the time to explore this city. I meet a guy who willingly takes me around to all the important places of the city, including the museums and political buildings. We then go over to Goree Island, one of West Africa's major ports during the Transatlantic Slave Trade. I have been to such slave dungeons before and it is never easy to be in a place that was the source of so much pain and human suffering. The next day my guide invites me to go to Lac Rose a red colored lake on the outskirts of the city. I agree and he introduces me to his friend that lives in Germany and brings students each year to Senegal to learn from its culture. Malek was a very nice Senegalese man who had limitless conversation and curiosity about me and my goals in Africa. Turns out, he knows of another way in Bambey that I can help out and he was bringing his students there in a few days to do the same. He paid for everyone's lunch and we ate dinner that night at his home in the small village of Rusfisque. During dinner I interacted with the 10 German students he brought and we had great chats about life and the state of the world. I read them poetry and they all wanted my autograph as though I were a famous poet or something (maybe I am and don't know it yet).


Senegal is the fourth country that I have entered into on this journey to South Africa and unfortunately it may be my last. It is amazing to me that no matter how grand your goals are, how much you prepare or how strong your will and determination, the smallest, tiniest, little things can bring your journey, any journey to a complete stop.....